Good morning. David is on holiday, Dick has a much-deserved day off from leading and preaching, Heidi and the usual musicians are absent, and today is called Low Sunday. It’s the week after Easter and it is called either ‘Low Sunday’ – often referring to the low that we feel after the celebration of Easter Day, or ‘Thomas Sunday’ because someone, usually a Reader, has to preach ‘yet again’ on Thomas and doubt.
Whichever way we look at it, this Sunday has a much lower profile than last Sunday. And yet it reinforces some very important truths, and reminds us of Jesus’ gift to us, our own free will and the choices we make.
How does this work in our readings?
Does anyone remember the opening sequence to the Star Wars films, where the words rolled past, and it looked as if we were being told the whole story before the film had even started? This morning’s readings are a bit like that for me, because so much happens in such a short space of time that we are in danger of missing it. Certainly we can’t explore everything in one go.
We’ve heard three stories this morning, and if we look at them in the order in which they happened then we see:
Jesus appears in the middle of a locked room, shows his disciples that he is alive, but still wounded and offers peace. He then sends them out in the power of the Holy Spirit and, breathing on them, gives them the authority, within their relationship with him, to forgive others. This is the ‘handover’ moment, a fore-runner of Pentecost, when believers are empowered to be church together.
In the second story Jesus appears again to Thomas – it’s a kind of mopping up operation, the same story again, but this time aimed mainly at Thomas, who wasn’t there the in the first story. Again Jesus appears in a locked room; again he shows that he is alive but still wounded, and offers peace, but this time he commands that we believe. This time there is a response that recognises his Lordship, and this time Jesus promises blessing both to those present, and also to everyone who believes. Because, after that time, the Church will include people who didn’t actually know Jesus personally, when he was on earth – just like you and me.
In the third story, from Acts, we can see that all the believers were united. They shared, they supported each other and they testified to other people about Jesus’ resurrection. They were being Church in the way that Jesus modelled for them, sharing and acting in unity.
For every choice there is a response. The disciples responded to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus with faith, and because of that faith they became one with Christ and were changed. That change led them to action; to behave differently, and we see that demonstrated in the reading of Acts, which shows the development of the early church. The believers shared their possessions and they acted together in unity.
How might that work in our lives?
Let’s start with Easter. We have the Good News. Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah,.
Sometimes that can be difficult, as can our reading from Acts. We’d like to feel happy and celebratory, and we’d like to be in unity with everyone in the church and feel that we all have one mind and that everything is comfortable and cosy. But I do recognise that it isn’t always like that.
Dick has led two funerals this week. A child we have been praying for has died after a long illness, and people at this church have been affected by that. Other people are worried about their jobs, about illness and conflict in their families, about wars and injustice, and political unrest, and all sorts of things that we can’t control. We are all wounded in different ways. And we are being asked by the people who created the Easter liturgy – the words we use in our services - to say ‘Praise the Lord’ - ‘Hallelujah”? We are being asked to worship God, to celebrate Jesus appearing to his disciples. Maybe we just don’t feel like it.
But… and there is always a but, I’ve found that the times that I have been able to laugh most, to experience the greatest joy of life, even sometimes to worship in the most meaningful way, have been when other parts of my life seem darkest.
Laughter and worship and joy are points on a scale, and there is something about knowing the heights that makes the depths so deep, and vice versa. One of the great benefits of team-work, of community, of being in unity, is that someone else can do what I can’t. If I find myself unable to worship and praise, then maybe someone else can worship on my behalf. (Priesthood of believers) Rather like the believers, if I can’t feed myself, maybe someone else can – in this case in worship.
The other point about saying Hallelujah when it is difficult is that it helps us to see our own problems in perspective. There are things in my life that I wish were different, that I would change if I could, but which I just have to leave with God. I pray about them, sometimes I shed tears about them, but ultimately no amount of angst or worry on my part can make any difference, so I have to give it to God in prayer, and I choose to worship God in the desert paces as well as on the heights of the mountain..
That is my choice, and today is partly about choices and consequences.
Jesus chose to go to the cross, and when he returned he asked us to choose – to believe in him and to carry on his work. He comes out of the closed tomb, and into the locked room of our hearts to share his risen life with us. He understands our fear, and shares our wounds. He brings us his forgiveness and peace; he breathes the Holy Spirit into our lives. And then he waits for our response. We can choose to make no response, in which case we are stuck in disbelief and nothing happens. Or we can choose faith; faith that results in becoming a member of this priesthood of believers, faith which results in action, and is defined by our relationship of sharing with God and other Christians, a relationship of unity.
Finally, I must mention Thomas – if only because David said last Sunday that all preachers except David use today’s texts to preach about Thomas and doubt rather than about the start of the church.
We often refer to Thomas ‘Doubting Thomas’ because we interpret his statement, “Unless I see… I will not believe” as doubt. We warm to this story because it reminds us of our own questions – questions we can seek answers to if we have faith as our bedrock. In fact a more accurate translation of the words that we read as “Stop doubting and believe” is “do not be disbelieving but believe.” Thomas is asking for the same evidence that the other disciples have already had so that he can believe.
The background to this slide is a beautiful picture, by Caravaggio, of Thomas, placing his finger in the wound in Christ’s side, just before he makes the definitive statement of faith, “My Lord and my God,”
Thomas’ answer confirms what we believe, that Jesus Christ is resurrected, cannot die again, and that we who believe, even though we haven’t seen, are blessed. Our faith changes us and we act differently, we love as Jesus did, and that means that we are able to share our lives with others in the unity of Christ.
Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah.
Saturday 25 April 2009
Tuesday 14 April 2009
Sermon: 25th January 2009
This was preached at Bourne End
This is the start of Jesus’ ministry. According to John we have heard that Jesus is God, made flesh, dwelling among us. We have heard that John the Baptist’s testimony to the priests and Levites that John is lowlier than a slave in comparison with Jesus.
We have seen two of John’s disciples, Andrew and Peter, turn and follow Jesus, and we have seen another two men, Philip and Nathaniel answer Jesus’ call, and hear his promise of greater things to come.
Now we have a practical demonstration. It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
This can be read as straightforward story of water into wine to meet a need, and on its own it stands as a wonderful story of Jesus meeting our needs, not just with the minimum that we need, but with the best there is, and in abundance.
Wonderful as that is, I think there is more to be found in this story, because like many of the elements of John’s gospel, it can be read at many levels, and this is part of the beauty of this gospel, and why, I think, it speaks so strongly to so many people. So let’s have a look at some of the detail:
The party was almost over – the wine had gone
What a way to tell a story? They went to a party… …When the wine had gone.
No information whatsoever about the celebration, the toasts, the joy, the dancing. We all know what a good wedding can be like for us, and John didn’t waste words telling us things we know already. His story concerns the tail-end of a party. We have all experienced that too – the moment when we realise that the best has been, that the future is dry and uncertain, and maybe includes a hangover.
The current recession, officially announced yesterday, is an example of that in our time. How many of us realised during the good times that they would end before we were ready?
Are there any hints in this story that might help us today?
First, let’s look at the Water Jars.
These are not ordinary water storage jars used for washing the dirty feet of visitors. These jars were used to store water for ceremonial washing – for the atonement of sins, for purification. 6 jars, each holding 20-30 gallons - suggests a lot of ceremonial washing, and the jars were empty. The resources had run dry.
If we think of all those people going out into the desert to be baptised in water – for the forgiveness of their sins - by John the Baptist, isn’t that the state that the people were in before Jesus arrived?
Isn’t that the state of our lives before we came to know Jesus?
Isn’t it interesting that Jesus performs this miracle, as his first public act after his own baptism – so soon after John the Baptist has said, “the one who sent me to baptise with water told me, “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is he who will baptise with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:33).
I think that this story tells us that faith in Jesus replaces ritual purification with the opportunity of a relationship with God; that the Holy Spirit living in us is far more powerful than washing with water and trying to deal with our sin in our own strength; that the best is yet to come, both in the gospel and in our lives.
Secondly, let’s look at the way this miracle works.
Any competent magician can perform a ‘water-into-wine’ trick – although most wouldn’t do it. One reason is that of the two methods I know, if you were to drink the resulting wine, one would leave you sitting on the toilet for a long time, and the other would kill you.
This is no bang, flash, drifting smoke magic trick. It involves several different things happening in harmony to achieve, parts which are directly applicable to our prayer life? Let’s look at the events in detail.
1. Firstly - Mary initiates this. She does not ask Jesus to do something – she draws his attention to a need. His response was “My time had not yet come”. It sounds as if he is not yet ready to act.
I don’t know if any of you have the ‘fix-it’ gene. In my case it manifests itself as a conviction that I can fix most problems, if only I work hard enough.
Like all personality traits, it is positive at one end of the scale – it means I have sometimes succeeded at things that other people wouldn’t even try. At other times it a failing when I try to interfere with things that are legitimately ‘SEP’ – Someone Else’s Problem, or tell people how to solve their problems when they are perfectly capable of fixing them for themselves. I pray constantly for the wisdom to tread the fine line between the two, and I know that, had I been in Mary’s shoes I would have been tempted to be advising Jesus how to tread grapes by this time in the story.
Yet Mary, far from saying, “Get on with it”, or starting to tread grapes herself, simply asks the servants to obey her son.
When we pray, how often do we tell God what we want the answer to be? How often are we willing to accept the ‘not yet’ message and still say, ‘your will be done’, and to wait in faith? Mary’s faith and wisdom is rewarded when Jesus asks the servants to act.
2. Jesus tells the servant what to do, and they do it, to the best of their ability. The water jars are filled to the brim – no short measures.
There is no meanness in the actions of those who are following these orders, the generosity starts with the servants’ response to Jesus call.
3. Finally, after faith, waiting and obedience, God acts, and the results are better and more generous that anyone could have imagined (except, maybe, his mother.)
This miracle had a purpose beyond providing wine to a wedding party. It revealed Jesus’ glory and we read that Jesus’ disciples put their faith in Jesus as a result.
It can also be a learning experience for us, with significant parallels to our own prayer lives, and I think it’s a good pattern for us to remember when we speak to God – highlight the need, be prepared to wait or to work to the best of our ability, to accept ‘your will be done’, and give God space to act.
Jesus not only refills the water jars – which on it’s own is OK, but it doesn’t move us forwards – he changes the nature of one of the elements of which this earth is made as he turns the water into wine. Wine contains a lot of water, but it isn’t just water. Jesus has come to change, to add to, to transform – not just water, but our lives. He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
We’ve looked at the water jars – the symbol of the old rituals, the way things were before.
We’ve looked at the way God works when we choose to be faithful, patient and obedient. We may have noticed that the result wasn’t what was expected, but was even better.
Finally, let’s look at the parallels with Jesus’ life.
It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
Just as the party is nearly over.
Just as the good things seem to have run out.
God heard the need.
Gave us the best.
Gave in abundance.
He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
Wine in place of water?
When Jesus turns the water into wine, full to the brim, I think he is doing more than just meeting the immediate need of wedding guests. I think he is – at the start of his ministry - making a statement about who he is, and his purpose in coming. I think this is a message about refreshing, renewal, transformation and the power of God to meet our needs in a new and delightful way, as part of a celebration. Remember, this was a wedding feast. Could this be a foretaste of the heavenly banquet? “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the lamb”(Revelation 19:9)
We can share in that now, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, through our faith in him, through our communion.
As a result of all of this, when we think the party is almost over, we can remember the water jars – their emptiness refilled, their contents transformed, we can remind ourselves that we don’t need to fix everything ourselves, but that if we go to God in prayer, and wait, expectantly, obediently, and give space to God to act, that we can also have hope that we too are invited to the wedding super of the lamb, we can be confident that the best is yet to come, the celebrations are just beginning.
Jesus’ disciples saw and had faith.
His actions call for a response.
What is our response to that today?
This is the start of Jesus’ ministry. According to John we have heard that Jesus is God, made flesh, dwelling among us. We have heard that John the Baptist’s testimony to the priests and Levites that John is lowlier than a slave in comparison with Jesus.
We have seen two of John’s disciples, Andrew and Peter, turn and follow Jesus, and we have seen another two men, Philip and Nathaniel answer Jesus’ call, and hear his promise of greater things to come.
Now we have a practical demonstration. It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
This can be read as straightforward story of water into wine to meet a need, and on its own it stands as a wonderful story of Jesus meeting our needs, not just with the minimum that we need, but with the best there is, and in abundance.
Wonderful as that is, I think there is more to be found in this story, because like many of the elements of John’s gospel, it can be read at many levels, and this is part of the beauty of this gospel, and why, I think, it speaks so strongly to so many people. So let’s have a look at some of the detail:
The party was almost over – the wine had gone
What a way to tell a story? They went to a party… …When the wine had gone.
No information whatsoever about the celebration, the toasts, the joy, the dancing. We all know what a good wedding can be like for us, and John didn’t waste words telling us things we know already. His story concerns the tail-end of a party. We have all experienced that too – the moment when we realise that the best has been, that the future is dry and uncertain, and maybe includes a hangover.
The current recession, officially announced yesterday, is an example of that in our time. How many of us realised during the good times that they would end before we were ready?
Are there any hints in this story that might help us today?
First, let’s look at the Water Jars.
These are not ordinary water storage jars used for washing the dirty feet of visitors. These jars were used to store water for ceremonial washing – for the atonement of sins, for purification. 6 jars, each holding 20-30 gallons - suggests a lot of ceremonial washing, and the jars were empty. The resources had run dry.
If we think of all those people going out into the desert to be baptised in water – for the forgiveness of their sins - by John the Baptist, isn’t that the state that the people were in before Jesus arrived?
Isn’t that the state of our lives before we came to know Jesus?
Isn’t it interesting that Jesus performs this miracle, as his first public act after his own baptism – so soon after John the Baptist has said, “the one who sent me to baptise with water told me, “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is he who will baptise with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:33).
I think that this story tells us that faith in Jesus replaces ritual purification with the opportunity of a relationship with God; that the Holy Spirit living in us is far more powerful than washing with water and trying to deal with our sin in our own strength; that the best is yet to come, both in the gospel and in our lives.
Secondly, let’s look at the way this miracle works.
Any competent magician can perform a ‘water-into-wine’ trick – although most wouldn’t do it. One reason is that of the two methods I know, if you were to drink the resulting wine, one would leave you sitting on the toilet for a long time, and the other would kill you.
This is no bang, flash, drifting smoke magic trick. It involves several different things happening in harmony to achieve, parts which are directly applicable to our prayer life? Let’s look at the events in detail.
1. Firstly - Mary initiates this. She does not ask Jesus to do something – she draws his attention to a need. His response was “My time had not yet come”. It sounds as if he is not yet ready to act.
I don’t know if any of you have the ‘fix-it’ gene. In my case it manifests itself as a conviction that I can fix most problems, if only I work hard enough.
Like all personality traits, it is positive at one end of the scale – it means I have sometimes succeeded at things that other people wouldn’t even try. At other times it a failing when I try to interfere with things that are legitimately ‘SEP’ – Someone Else’s Problem, or tell people how to solve their problems when they are perfectly capable of fixing them for themselves. I pray constantly for the wisdom to tread the fine line between the two, and I know that, had I been in Mary’s shoes I would have been tempted to be advising Jesus how to tread grapes by this time in the story.
Yet Mary, far from saying, “Get on with it”, or starting to tread grapes herself, simply asks the servants to obey her son.
When we pray, how often do we tell God what we want the answer to be? How often are we willing to accept the ‘not yet’ message and still say, ‘your will be done’, and to wait in faith? Mary’s faith and wisdom is rewarded when Jesus asks the servants to act.
2. Jesus tells the servant what to do, and they do it, to the best of their ability. The water jars are filled to the brim – no short measures.
There is no meanness in the actions of those who are following these orders, the generosity starts with the servants’ response to Jesus call.
3. Finally, after faith, waiting and obedience, God acts, and the results are better and more generous that anyone could have imagined (except, maybe, his mother.)
This miracle had a purpose beyond providing wine to a wedding party. It revealed Jesus’ glory and we read that Jesus’ disciples put their faith in Jesus as a result.
It can also be a learning experience for us, with significant parallels to our own prayer lives, and I think it’s a good pattern for us to remember when we speak to God – highlight the need, be prepared to wait or to work to the best of our ability, to accept ‘your will be done’, and give God space to act.
Jesus not only refills the water jars – which on it’s own is OK, but it doesn’t move us forwards – he changes the nature of one of the elements of which this earth is made as he turns the water into wine. Wine contains a lot of water, but it isn’t just water. Jesus has come to change, to add to, to transform – not just water, but our lives. He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
We’ve looked at the water jars – the symbol of the old rituals, the way things were before.
We’ve looked at the way God works when we choose to be faithful, patient and obedient. We may have noticed that the result wasn’t what was expected, but was even better.
Finally, let’s look at the parallels with Jesus’ life.
It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
Just as the party is nearly over.
Just as the good things seem to have run out.
God heard the need.
Gave us the best.
Gave in abundance.
He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
Wine in place of water?
When Jesus turns the water into wine, full to the brim, I think he is doing more than just meeting the immediate need of wedding guests. I think he is – at the start of his ministry - making a statement about who he is, and his purpose in coming. I think this is a message about refreshing, renewal, transformation and the power of God to meet our needs in a new and delightful way, as part of a celebration. Remember, this was a wedding feast. Could this be a foretaste of the heavenly banquet? “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the lamb”(Revelation 19:9)
We can share in that now, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, through our faith in him, through our communion.
As a result of all of this, when we think the party is almost over, we can remember the water jars – their emptiness refilled, their contents transformed, we can remind ourselves that we don’t need to fix everything ourselves, but that if we go to God in prayer, and wait, expectantly, obediently, and give space to God to act, that we can also have hope that we too are invited to the wedding super of the lamb, we can be confident that the best is yet to come, the celebrations are just beginning.
Jesus’ disciples saw and had faith.
His actions call for a response.
What is our response to that today?
Sermon: 15th February 2009
Preached at Sunnyside.
If we get Jesus right everything else follows
Today is sometimes called Creation Sunday. It’s easy to see why when we look at the four readings for today.
1. We’ve already shared part of Psalm 104 which sings in praise of God’s power in creation, “How many are your works: the earth is full of your creatures”
2. The second Old Testament reading is from Proverbs 8; a beautiful piece of Hebrew poetry that refers to the place of Wisdom, often associated with the Holy Spirit, in the beginning of creation. “I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep, when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command, and when he marked out the foundations of the earth. Then I was the craftsman at his side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world.” This writing emphasises the feminine attributes of the creator God in Wisdom. It has a lightness of touch and a sense of playful creativity that I find delightful.
3. The Gospel reading is the New Testament Greek text, John 1:1-18, which we have heard several times recently, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.” This is about Jesus’ presence at the beginning of creation, and about his nature as God and man. The Greek text is serious and heavyweight, and emphasises the masculine attributes of the creator God in Word.
As well as being two glorious pieces of writing, they combine to make an important point about the co-operative, interactive nature of God – about that dance of delight that marks the creative relationship between the three persons of the trinity.
4. And finally, the Epistle, from Colossians that we have just heard, in the context of creation, redemption and authority, “Jesus is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning…” I think that if we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
Those four texts give us the shape of Creation Sunday and tell us that:
Firstly, God’s power created and sustains our world.
Secondly, Wisdom and the Word existed before and worked in creation.
Thirdly, Jesus was fully human and fully divine.
Finally, Jesus is the head of our church, alive; resurrected and reconciling all things to himself. Renewal comes through Jesus. If we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
We all have slightly different mind-pictures of God, and some of our pictures can be quite unhelpful. When I was little I learned about God in a slightly schizophrenic way that made me think on the one hand of an ever present spy, ready to tell my parents about anything I did that was wrong – a sort of cosmic baby-sitter. On the other hand was a rather willocky and anaemic ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ who seemed very nice, but lacking energy. What was your picture?
Obviously my picture changed as I grew up – I no longer believe that Jesus had blonde hair and blue eyes for instance - but it does help me to understand why some people see God purely in terms of judgement and fear, or simply don’t see the point in faith.
All our pictures are likely to contain some kind of truth. But I think for all of us, in slightly different ways, our pictures of God may be less than adequate
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of reverence, awe and majesty, holiness (set apartness), or do we sometimes reduce God to the equivalent of a ‘tame lion’ that we try to manipulate, control or ignore, and who is powerless to help us?
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of the loving intimacy, forgiveness, compassion and care, or do we sometimes distort our picture of God to the equivalent of a disassociated dictator, hurling the occasional thunderbolt, and playing dice with humanity.
If God is neither a dictator nor a pussy-cat, how do we find a balance?
I think we find that balance by focusing on Jesus, God the Son – the second person of the trinity. If we get our picture of Jesus right, then everything else follows, even when we don’t understand it all.
In the Old Testament text, Exodus 33:20, “But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."” God is physically separate from humanity, and few people develop a personal relationship with God. However, as soon as Jesus is born as a human – man born of woman, God gains a human face, and that relationship becomes personal. “No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known” (John 1:18) We can identify with that human being.
Jesus is there, as the second person of the trinity when the world is created- as God, and yet is able to become human in order to reach us, to create that opportunity for a personal relationship.
We often quote from a passage from Philippians that speaks about Jesus, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” That deliberate and willing putting aside of divine power meant that Jesus was able to become completely human. John tells us that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us”. Jesus became fully human for us.
But we are hugely mistaken if we then go on to think that Jesus’ humanity meant that he was not and is not God. If Jesus was only human, only a good man then his death was sad and unfair, but nothing more. And our hopes of salvation are meaningless, a delusion.
John 1 makes it very clear that “the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning… the world was made through him”.
That’s what the Colossians passage goes to such lengths to point out. Look at what is says about Christ, “he is the image of the invisible God.” We can’t see God, but we know what God is like by looking at Christ.
“He is the firstborn over all creation... by him all things were created, things in heaven and earth, visible and invisible”
Look at verse 16. “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” Do you recognise these words from the Nicene creed? The bishops who met to debate, fight and eventually agree the statement of belief that the Christian church has used worldwide since the fourth century, weren’t just coming up with a set of fusty words to recite brainlessly on a Sunday; they were expressing truths about God Father, Son and Holy Spirit, truths that the church has held to despite many, many differences, through the centuries since then. The words of our creeds define Christianity and differentiate it from any other faith. They refute the pic’n’mix approach to spirituality and claim Christ as God. They show how, if we have a right picture of Jesus, everything else follows form that.
Jesus, present in creation and present now, as part of a Trinitarian God is “the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy”
Those truths are based in scripture, and those same truths, in those same words, are shared in churches in every town and county in this land, and in most countries of the world even today.
You will also hear echoes of the Colossians passage in the words of our peace, and in the Eucharistic Prayer that we are using today for our communion.
This Passage tells us that Jesus was present at and part of the activities of creation, holds all power, is before all things and holds everything together. Jesus, a human being created in the image of God, is head of the body that is the church, is the firstborn of the dead – supreme in everything, on earth or in heaven.
And by Jesus’ death and resurrection, all things are reconciled. The healing that we as humans all so desperately need, has been bought by Jesus through his blood, shed on a cross, and his rising from the dead.
(Arms open) When Jesus opened his arms on the cross he held together all those tensions and balances, divinity and humanity, past and future, brokenness and healing.
In our faith we also hold out our arms to the death and the resurrection, the despair and the hope, we hold in balance our ideas of God – awesome and majestic, loving and compassionate. That balance is accessible to us through Jesus, God made human, man born of woman, Wisdom and Word, “before all things”; with power and vulnerability “holding all things together”, “making peace through his blood, shed on the cross”.
This is what we share when we look outwards from ourselves and share the peace; when we focus on finding Jesus in each other; when we join together as one church – the bride of Christ, united in our baptismal faith, at our communion.
When we think about God’s continuing action in creation, and in re-creation and renewal today, we focus on Jesus because, as the old saying goes, if we get Jesus right everything else follows. Amen
If we get Jesus right everything else follows
Today is sometimes called Creation Sunday. It’s easy to see why when we look at the four readings for today.
1. We’ve already shared part of Psalm 104 which sings in praise of God’s power in creation, “How many are your works: the earth is full of your creatures”
2. The second Old Testament reading is from Proverbs 8; a beautiful piece of Hebrew poetry that refers to the place of Wisdom, often associated with the Holy Spirit, in the beginning of creation. “I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep, when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command, and when he marked out the foundations of the earth. Then I was the craftsman at his side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world.” This writing emphasises the feminine attributes of the creator God in Wisdom. It has a lightness of touch and a sense of playful creativity that I find delightful.
3. The Gospel reading is the New Testament Greek text, John 1:1-18, which we have heard several times recently, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.” This is about Jesus’ presence at the beginning of creation, and about his nature as God and man. The Greek text is serious and heavyweight, and emphasises the masculine attributes of the creator God in Word.
As well as being two glorious pieces of writing, they combine to make an important point about the co-operative, interactive nature of God – about that dance of delight that marks the creative relationship between the three persons of the trinity.
4. And finally, the Epistle, from Colossians that we have just heard, in the context of creation, redemption and authority, “Jesus is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning…” I think that if we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
Those four texts give us the shape of Creation Sunday and tell us that:
Firstly, God’s power created and sustains our world.
Secondly, Wisdom and the Word existed before and worked in creation.
Thirdly, Jesus was fully human and fully divine.
Finally, Jesus is the head of our church, alive; resurrected and reconciling all things to himself. Renewal comes through Jesus. If we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
We all have slightly different mind-pictures of God, and some of our pictures can be quite unhelpful. When I was little I learned about God in a slightly schizophrenic way that made me think on the one hand of an ever present spy, ready to tell my parents about anything I did that was wrong – a sort of cosmic baby-sitter. On the other hand was a rather willocky and anaemic ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ who seemed very nice, but lacking energy. What was your picture?
Obviously my picture changed as I grew up – I no longer believe that Jesus had blonde hair and blue eyes for instance - but it does help me to understand why some people see God purely in terms of judgement and fear, or simply don’t see the point in faith.
All our pictures are likely to contain some kind of truth. But I think for all of us, in slightly different ways, our pictures of God may be less than adequate
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of reverence, awe and majesty, holiness (set apartness), or do we sometimes reduce God to the equivalent of a ‘tame lion’ that we try to manipulate, control or ignore, and who is powerless to help us?
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of the loving intimacy, forgiveness, compassion and care, or do we sometimes distort our picture of God to the equivalent of a disassociated dictator, hurling the occasional thunderbolt, and playing dice with humanity.
If God is neither a dictator nor a pussy-cat, how do we find a balance?
I think we find that balance by focusing on Jesus, God the Son – the second person of the trinity. If we get our picture of Jesus right, then everything else follows, even when we don’t understand it all.
In the Old Testament text, Exodus 33:20, “But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."” God is physically separate from humanity, and few people develop a personal relationship with God. However, as soon as Jesus is born as a human – man born of woman, God gains a human face, and that relationship becomes personal. “No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known” (John 1:18) We can identify with that human being.
Jesus is there, as the second person of the trinity when the world is created- as God, and yet is able to become human in order to reach us, to create that opportunity for a personal relationship.
We often quote from a passage from Philippians that speaks about Jesus, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” That deliberate and willing putting aside of divine power meant that Jesus was able to become completely human. John tells us that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us”. Jesus became fully human for us.
But we are hugely mistaken if we then go on to think that Jesus’ humanity meant that he was not and is not God. If Jesus was only human, only a good man then his death was sad and unfair, but nothing more. And our hopes of salvation are meaningless, a delusion.
John 1 makes it very clear that “the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning… the world was made through him”.
That’s what the Colossians passage goes to such lengths to point out. Look at what is says about Christ, “he is the image of the invisible God.” We can’t see God, but we know what God is like by looking at Christ.
“He is the firstborn over all creation... by him all things were created, things in heaven and earth, visible and invisible”
Look at verse 16. “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” Do you recognise these words from the Nicene creed? The bishops who met to debate, fight and eventually agree the statement of belief that the Christian church has used worldwide since the fourth century, weren’t just coming up with a set of fusty words to recite brainlessly on a Sunday; they were expressing truths about God Father, Son and Holy Spirit, truths that the church has held to despite many, many differences, through the centuries since then. The words of our creeds define Christianity and differentiate it from any other faith. They refute the pic’n’mix approach to spirituality and claim Christ as God. They show how, if we have a right picture of Jesus, everything else follows form that.
Jesus, present in creation and present now, as part of a Trinitarian God is “the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy”
Those truths are based in scripture, and those same truths, in those same words, are shared in churches in every town and county in this land, and in most countries of the world even today.
You will also hear echoes of the Colossians passage in the words of our peace, and in the Eucharistic Prayer that we are using today for our communion.
This Passage tells us that Jesus was present at and part of the activities of creation, holds all power, is before all things and holds everything together. Jesus, a human being created in the image of God, is head of the body that is the church, is the firstborn of the dead – supreme in everything, on earth or in heaven.
And by Jesus’ death and resurrection, all things are reconciled. The healing that we as humans all so desperately need, has been bought by Jesus through his blood, shed on a cross, and his rising from the dead.
(Arms open) When Jesus opened his arms on the cross he held together all those tensions and balances, divinity and humanity, past and future, brokenness and healing.
In our faith we also hold out our arms to the death and the resurrection, the despair and the hope, we hold in balance our ideas of God – awesome and majestic, loving and compassionate. That balance is accessible to us through Jesus, God made human, man born of woman, Wisdom and Word, “before all things”; with power and vulnerability “holding all things together”, “making peace through his blood, shed on the cross”.
This is what we share when we look outwards from ourselves and share the peace; when we focus on finding Jesus in each other; when we join together as one church – the bride of Christ, united in our baptismal faith, at our communion.
When we think about God’s continuing action in creation, and in re-creation and renewal today, we focus on Jesus because, as the old saying goes, if we get Jesus right everything else follows. Amen
Sermon: 22nd February 2009
Preached at Sunnyside.
Reading: Mark 9:2-9
We acknowledge the reality of life as it is, and live with the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus.
In the early 1990s I took my young daughter to a funeral for a man who had been a member of my church, and who had that happy knack of being friends with everyone.
As a result the church was packed, including many children of all ages, all of whom had asked to be there. I had known him as an elderly man, who lived in the local warden-assisted flats, drove a mobility scooter and walked with sticks, and all I knew about him was that he was the father-in-law of the vicar, and a lovely person.
Imagine my surprise to learn about his life, to discover that he spoke mandarin Chinese and had been a missionary in China, that he had lost both legs, hence his difficulty in walking, and had lived a life of adventure and service to God.
The stories kept on coming and by the end of the service I looked at his life in a completely different light.
That’s quite a common experience at funerals, as we think we know someone, and then we find out something that broadens and enriches our ideas completely.
It’s unlikely to be as dramatic as today’s story though, which tells us about one of those times when people who thought they knew Jesus, suddenly saw him in a different light.
Marks’ gospel starts with the sentence, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. It tells us the topic of the whole gospel, but as we read we have to remember that the people in the stories didn’t know that sentence. They didn’t know they were part of the story of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They had to work out who Jesus was as they went through the experience of knowing him and learning to trust him. They learned to live with the reality of life, but they carried the hope that they might see the Messiah.
In Chapter 8:29 Peter has already answered the question, "Who do you say I am?" with, "You are the Christ.’ So Peter had an idea about Jesus. He saw him as the anointed one, the Messiah, but Peter didn’t really understand what that meant.
In Mark’s gospel God’s presence has already broken through at Jesus’ baptism, with the words, “"You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." But other people didn’t see that. This time Jesus and three of his disciples have climbed a mountain, and the divine breaks through again. This time they all heard the words, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”
I’d like you to stop and think for a moment. What would it be like to be there with Peter and James and John, and to see Jesus transfigured, and to hear the voice of God. Would we feel the same sense of inadequacy that the disciples felt. We’re told that they did not know what to say, they were so frightened. What would you feel? What would you say? What would you do?
Peter, wanted to stay in the glory moment, to stay on the mountain with Moses, Elijah and Jesus. But the mountain moments of all our lives are a temporary respite from reality. This one was too. It connected Jesus’ baptism, and the glory of the resurrection. It was a significant marker in the story of our salvation; in the story of God’s plan to save all of humanity, including us.
But they had to come down from the mountain. Jesus had to move forwards to Gethsemane and the cross in order to earn our salvation. The glory of that moment of transfiguration is brighter and lighter and somehow more poignant in our imagination because we know that the worst is yet to come in this story. The glory of the transfiguration contrasts with the darkness of the cross, the despair to come, and the hope to follow.
We too can have our mountain moments – those times when we see things in a new and positive way; when we see Jesus reflected in people in ways that we didn’t expect. It can be tempting, like Peter, to want to stay there, to leave the world outside that experience behind – to shelter with the saints. Sometimes holidays are like that aren’t they? We have such a good time that we imagine spending the rest of our lives living like that.
But it isn’t permanent. We have to come home, to pick up the threads of our daily lives and continue. Peter, James and John were given a glimpse of the present – the present that they couldn’t normally see. They were given a glimpse of the future promise. And they were told, “Listen to him”. And then they had to come back, down the mountain, and pick up their lives, just as we do.
But when we do that, we also acknowledge the reality of life as we live it today, with all the difficulties and problems, the sadness and pain and guilt that we carry, as well as the hope and promise of forgiveness and new life in Jesus.
Acknowledging that reality isn’t just about our own lives. It is about acknowledging that other people need our help; to bring help and justice, to work to make a difference. It is about realising that, no matter how wonderful we think our lives are today, how excited we are by the promise of a shared life with Jesus, or conversely how much we fear and worry about our own futures, this isn’t just about us.
This story is about the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus, it is about acknowledging Jesus in the reality of our lives. But if all it does is make us smug then we’ve missed the point.
Jesus taught us to value everyone, to care for others, to look out for each other. Jesus singled out the downtrodden, the insignificant and the marginalised. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Jesus used examples of people on the margins of society to demonstrate that God’s kingdom is for everyone, but just for ‘people like us’. And he asked us to be the difference in those lives. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
That’s quite a challenge. In order to pick up on it I think we need to remember the transfiguration – to do what the disciples did and keep that memory in our minds – the moment when God broke through and spoke to men, and showed his glory. We need that memory so that when we think about our own and other people’s experience of the cross, our own and other people’s times of trial and testing, we can keep our hope alive.
We do well to remember that it wasn’t just the disciples who came back down the mountain. Jesus came too, and willingly continued his journey, to Gethsemane, the cross and beyond. His love for his disciples, and his love for us, was demonstrated by his willingness to weave his life into ours, to share with us our burdens and sorrows, and our sins.
Without the love and hope that Jesus brings to our lives we have only our humanity and our problems.
With Jesus, we acknowledge the reality of our lives today, and we do it in the full and certain knowledge of Christ’s presence with us, and in the excitement and anticipation of the hope of glory to come. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Reading: Mark 9:2-9
We acknowledge the reality of life as it is, and live with the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus.
In the early 1990s I took my young daughter to a funeral for a man who had been a member of my church, and who had that happy knack of being friends with everyone.
As a result the church was packed, including many children of all ages, all of whom had asked to be there. I had known him as an elderly man, who lived in the local warden-assisted flats, drove a mobility scooter and walked with sticks, and all I knew about him was that he was the father-in-law of the vicar, and a lovely person.
Imagine my surprise to learn about his life, to discover that he spoke mandarin Chinese and had been a missionary in China, that he had lost both legs, hence his difficulty in walking, and had lived a life of adventure and service to God.
The stories kept on coming and by the end of the service I looked at his life in a completely different light.
That’s quite a common experience at funerals, as we think we know someone, and then we find out something that broadens and enriches our ideas completely.
It’s unlikely to be as dramatic as today’s story though, which tells us about one of those times when people who thought they knew Jesus, suddenly saw him in a different light.
Marks’ gospel starts with the sentence, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. It tells us the topic of the whole gospel, but as we read we have to remember that the people in the stories didn’t know that sentence. They didn’t know they were part of the story of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They had to work out who Jesus was as they went through the experience of knowing him and learning to trust him. They learned to live with the reality of life, but they carried the hope that they might see the Messiah.
In Chapter 8:29 Peter has already answered the question, "Who do you say I am?" with, "You are the Christ.’ So Peter had an idea about Jesus. He saw him as the anointed one, the Messiah, but Peter didn’t really understand what that meant.
In Mark’s gospel God’s presence has already broken through at Jesus’ baptism, with the words, “"You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." But other people didn’t see that. This time Jesus and three of his disciples have climbed a mountain, and the divine breaks through again. This time they all heard the words, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”
I’d like you to stop and think for a moment. What would it be like to be there with Peter and James and John, and to see Jesus transfigured, and to hear the voice of God. Would we feel the same sense of inadequacy that the disciples felt. We’re told that they did not know what to say, they were so frightened. What would you feel? What would you say? What would you do?
Peter, wanted to stay in the glory moment, to stay on the mountain with Moses, Elijah and Jesus. But the mountain moments of all our lives are a temporary respite from reality. This one was too. It connected Jesus’ baptism, and the glory of the resurrection. It was a significant marker in the story of our salvation; in the story of God’s plan to save all of humanity, including us.
But they had to come down from the mountain. Jesus had to move forwards to Gethsemane and the cross in order to earn our salvation. The glory of that moment of transfiguration is brighter and lighter and somehow more poignant in our imagination because we know that the worst is yet to come in this story. The glory of the transfiguration contrasts with the darkness of the cross, the despair to come, and the hope to follow.
We too can have our mountain moments – those times when we see things in a new and positive way; when we see Jesus reflected in people in ways that we didn’t expect. It can be tempting, like Peter, to want to stay there, to leave the world outside that experience behind – to shelter with the saints. Sometimes holidays are like that aren’t they? We have such a good time that we imagine spending the rest of our lives living like that.
But it isn’t permanent. We have to come home, to pick up the threads of our daily lives and continue. Peter, James and John were given a glimpse of the present – the present that they couldn’t normally see. They were given a glimpse of the future promise. And they were told, “Listen to him”. And then they had to come back, down the mountain, and pick up their lives, just as we do.
But when we do that, we also acknowledge the reality of life as we live it today, with all the difficulties and problems, the sadness and pain and guilt that we carry, as well as the hope and promise of forgiveness and new life in Jesus.
Acknowledging that reality isn’t just about our own lives. It is about acknowledging that other people need our help; to bring help and justice, to work to make a difference. It is about realising that, no matter how wonderful we think our lives are today, how excited we are by the promise of a shared life with Jesus, or conversely how much we fear and worry about our own futures, this isn’t just about us.
This story is about the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus, it is about acknowledging Jesus in the reality of our lives. But if all it does is make us smug then we’ve missed the point.
Jesus taught us to value everyone, to care for others, to look out for each other. Jesus singled out the downtrodden, the insignificant and the marginalised. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Jesus used examples of people on the margins of society to demonstrate that God’s kingdom is for everyone, but just for ‘people like us’. And he asked us to be the difference in those lives. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
That’s quite a challenge. In order to pick up on it I think we need to remember the transfiguration – to do what the disciples did and keep that memory in our minds – the moment when God broke through and spoke to men, and showed his glory. We need that memory so that when we think about our own and other people’s experience of the cross, our own and other people’s times of trial and testing, we can keep our hope alive.
We do well to remember that it wasn’t just the disciples who came back down the mountain. Jesus came too, and willingly continued his journey, to Gethsemane, the cross and beyond. His love for his disciples, and his love for us, was demonstrated by his willingness to weave his life into ours, to share with us our burdens and sorrows, and our sins.
Without the love and hope that Jesus brings to our lives we have only our humanity and our problems.
With Jesus, we acknowledge the reality of our lives today, and we do it in the full and certain knowledge of Christ’s presence with us, and in the excitement and anticipation of the hope of glory to come. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Sermon: 8th Feb 2009
Preached at Sunnyside at 8am.
Reading: Psalm 147, Mark 9:2-9
This week a report was published by the Children’s Society, called “The Good Chidlhood Enquiry.” It tells us that in the UK we work longer hours than any other country in Western Europe, and this is putting strain on family life. This report has been head-lined as “‘selfish’ adults damaging the self-esteem of their children”, and the Archbishop of Canterbury suggests that “the well-being of children and young people in this country is far from being the priority it should be”.
I wonder how much of this is the result of us trying to squash too many activities and commitments into too little time, with no space for re-creation?
Have we all fallen prey to the myth that ‘you can have it all’ – as long as you work hard enough? Are we so tied up with consumerism that we must keep working to fund the next life-style accessory. Are parents burned out by long working hours?
Advertisers who assert, “Because you’re worth it”, or “You deserve it” (brackets, without having to work for it), play on our vulnerabilities; we all want to feel valued and special. If we can do that by spending money then the advertiser has succeeded. But do we feel any better afterwards?
The problem that I see with trying to spend our way to happiness is that the focus is turned in on ourselves, our wants, our needs, and that’s what has been highlighted by the ‘selfishness’ headlines. In among all the encouragement to treat ourselves, there has been precious little talk about responsibility or duty to others, or looking after one’s neighbour. If we add to that the crushing disillusionment of adults who have sacrificed precious time with their children to work long hours to achieve the ‘all’, only to discover it is a chimera, then it’s no wonder that in the general financial collapse we hear voices calling for a more caring and ‘other-focused’ society.
It’s not all gloom though, because this week yet another person has said to me this week that they are well cared for by this church community. That sense of care and compassion for others is alive and well here, and I think it shines out from so many people I talk to. And that is something unique about Christians and the hope that we can offer people.
In today’s readings we find Paul after he has encountered Jesus and been healed of his previous attitudes, of legalism, blame, seeking after retribution – all of which were attitudes aimed at making himself feel worthy and better than other people.
Remember the story of Saul looking after the clothes of the false witnesses as Stephen was being stoned in Acts 7. These attitudes say more about Saul (as he was known then), than about the people he persecuted.
We know that Saul met Jesus on the Damascus Road and became Paul. Paul’s encounter with Jesus healed him to the point where he became the man who was able to write that beautiful passage about love in 1 Corinthians 13, “if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing” (v2).
But Paul wasn’t healed physically of his ‘thorn in the flesh’ some kind of problem that afflicts him. His healing was transformative a healing of broken attitudes and a complete change of heart.
Paul was so moved, so grateful, so changed, that he simply couldn’t help over-flowing with the gospel, telling everyone in every way, in every possible situation. He preached the gospel everywhere.
It might sound strange to hear that Paul was all things to all men. But this text shows Paul could adapt himself to fit in with different groups – Jews, Romans, Greeks, slaves. Nowadays I think we would say that he is tailoring his style to suit his audience.
Paul’s message was consistent; he wants everyone to know that faith in Jesus is healing, life-changing, life-affirming, and life-saving. The major change though is that he is telling people because he wants them to know for their own sake, not for his personal glory. Paul is not only a more effective disciple, he is also a much nicer person, and he is happier. What does that tell us about selfishness vs altruism?
The second event of this week was that I heard on the radio that people with faith are generally happier than those without. It was something to do with having a focus outside our own personal self-interest – being willing and wanting to give something back to society. I couldn’t find the reference, so if you know it, so please let me know afterwards. Doesn’t that tie in with what Paul discovered for himself? Doesn’t that tie in with the message I had about a caring Christian church here?
So we can see what faith in Jesus, and working out of that faith can do. But what was Jesus himself doing in our reading from Mark. I’ll note the comment about not allowing the demons to speak, but I won’t explain that one today – I’m sure we will refer to it many times during the year ahead.
For today I want to identify two points:
The first is that when Jesus arrived at Simon (soon to be Peter)’s house, he found Simon’s mother-in-law with a fever, and healed her. Her response, like Paul’s later on, is to want to serve. Now I don’t think this is a proof-text about women’s place in the home. I think it is another example, like Paul, of an encounter with Jesus leading to a response that is not about self-interest, but about serving others.
Shouldn’t that be our response too?
We then read that Jesus healed many people. Jesus’ attention was on the needs of those around him. Their need was great, the yearning for wholeness was there, and Jesus had compassion on many people.
But then we read something else. The second part of the reading tells us that Jesus didn’t only attend to those he was ministering to; he kept his focus on God. Jesus took time out to pray, to meet personally with God, alone in prayer, to spend time with God and so to refresh himself for his ministry. Moving between looking outwards to the needy and looking upwards, Jesus was able to re-create his energy, sustain his own ministry, to keep his focus on preaching and on making himself known.
After the publication of the Good Childhood report, and the news that people with faith are happier, there has been a third event this week that has brought those two things, and our bible readings into focus for me.
That has been the snow. Psalm 147 (one of today’s readings) tells us that God “covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.” I could paraphrase that this week as “he makes the snow fall and turns our fields white”.
Now I know that snow can be a danger and a nuisance to a lot of people, but something about it makes my heart sing – maybe it’s the lightness and brightness in the middle of grey days. And it had a wonderful effect this week because, people came out to play. Parents pulled small children around the town on plastic sledges; children built snowmen – I saw one boy dive headfirst into a snowman and come up laughing; teenagers shrieked and threw snowballs at each other. The unexpected day off work seemed to signal a chance for lots of people to relax, spend time with their families in play, and experience a bit of re-creation for themselves. Now I know it’s not a universal panacea, but it has made a difference to some people and I’ve been travelling around with a smile on my face as I’ve watched it.
This week’s snow has underlined to me how much of the healing that humanity needs is of the brokenness in our hearts and minds, the over-work and stress, anxiety and despair. We can bring all those to Jesus, who protects the vulnerable, heals the wounded and broken, and re-creates us as we focus on God. When we focus in on ourselves we are not just selfish; we are like a turkey aiming to fly. We can wear ourselves out with flapping, but using our own strength alone we probably won’t get very far from the ground.
Isaiah 40: 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, hey will walk and not be faint.
When we turn to God, we are no longer alone; we allow ourselves to be refreshed and supported, we can then soar like the eagle of Isaiah 40, resting on the Holy Spirit. Our strength is in the Lord, our healing comes from God, our lives are transformed by our faith in Jesus, and our response is to want, to choose to serve others.
Reading: Psalm 147, Mark 9:2-9
This week a report was published by the Children’s Society, called “The Good Chidlhood Enquiry.” It tells us that in the UK we work longer hours than any other country in Western Europe, and this is putting strain on family life. This report has been head-lined as “‘selfish’ adults damaging the self-esteem of their children”, and the Archbishop of Canterbury suggests that “the well-being of children and young people in this country is far from being the priority it should be”.
I wonder how much of this is the result of us trying to squash too many activities and commitments into too little time, with no space for re-creation?
Have we all fallen prey to the myth that ‘you can have it all’ – as long as you work hard enough? Are we so tied up with consumerism that we must keep working to fund the next life-style accessory. Are parents burned out by long working hours?
Advertisers who assert, “Because you’re worth it”, or “You deserve it” (brackets, without having to work for it), play on our vulnerabilities; we all want to feel valued and special. If we can do that by spending money then the advertiser has succeeded. But do we feel any better afterwards?
The problem that I see with trying to spend our way to happiness is that the focus is turned in on ourselves, our wants, our needs, and that’s what has been highlighted by the ‘selfishness’ headlines. In among all the encouragement to treat ourselves, there has been precious little talk about responsibility or duty to others, or looking after one’s neighbour. If we add to that the crushing disillusionment of adults who have sacrificed precious time with their children to work long hours to achieve the ‘all’, only to discover it is a chimera, then it’s no wonder that in the general financial collapse we hear voices calling for a more caring and ‘other-focused’ society.
It’s not all gloom though, because this week yet another person has said to me this week that they are well cared for by this church community. That sense of care and compassion for others is alive and well here, and I think it shines out from so many people I talk to. And that is something unique about Christians and the hope that we can offer people.
In today’s readings we find Paul after he has encountered Jesus and been healed of his previous attitudes, of legalism, blame, seeking after retribution – all of which were attitudes aimed at making himself feel worthy and better than other people.
Remember the story of Saul looking after the clothes of the false witnesses as Stephen was being stoned in Acts 7. These attitudes say more about Saul (as he was known then), than about the people he persecuted.
We know that Saul met Jesus on the Damascus Road and became Paul. Paul’s encounter with Jesus healed him to the point where he became the man who was able to write that beautiful passage about love in 1 Corinthians 13, “if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing” (v2).
But Paul wasn’t healed physically of his ‘thorn in the flesh’ some kind of problem that afflicts him. His healing was transformative a healing of broken attitudes and a complete change of heart.
Paul was so moved, so grateful, so changed, that he simply couldn’t help over-flowing with the gospel, telling everyone in every way, in every possible situation. He preached the gospel everywhere.
It might sound strange to hear that Paul was all things to all men. But this text shows Paul could adapt himself to fit in with different groups – Jews, Romans, Greeks, slaves. Nowadays I think we would say that he is tailoring his style to suit his audience.
Paul’s message was consistent; he wants everyone to know that faith in Jesus is healing, life-changing, life-affirming, and life-saving. The major change though is that he is telling people because he wants them to know for their own sake, not for his personal glory. Paul is not only a more effective disciple, he is also a much nicer person, and he is happier. What does that tell us about selfishness vs altruism?
The second event of this week was that I heard on the radio that people with faith are generally happier than those without. It was something to do with having a focus outside our own personal self-interest – being willing and wanting to give something back to society. I couldn’t find the reference, so if you know it, so please let me know afterwards. Doesn’t that tie in with what Paul discovered for himself? Doesn’t that tie in with the message I had about a caring Christian church here?
So we can see what faith in Jesus, and working out of that faith can do. But what was Jesus himself doing in our reading from Mark. I’ll note the comment about not allowing the demons to speak, but I won’t explain that one today – I’m sure we will refer to it many times during the year ahead.
For today I want to identify two points:
The first is that when Jesus arrived at Simon (soon to be Peter)’s house, he found Simon’s mother-in-law with a fever, and healed her. Her response, like Paul’s later on, is to want to serve. Now I don’t think this is a proof-text about women’s place in the home. I think it is another example, like Paul, of an encounter with Jesus leading to a response that is not about self-interest, but about serving others.
Shouldn’t that be our response too?
We then read that Jesus healed many people. Jesus’ attention was on the needs of those around him. Their need was great, the yearning for wholeness was there, and Jesus had compassion on many people.
But then we read something else. The second part of the reading tells us that Jesus didn’t only attend to those he was ministering to; he kept his focus on God. Jesus took time out to pray, to meet personally with God, alone in prayer, to spend time with God and so to refresh himself for his ministry. Moving between looking outwards to the needy and looking upwards, Jesus was able to re-create his energy, sustain his own ministry, to keep his focus on preaching and on making himself known.
After the publication of the Good Childhood report, and the news that people with faith are happier, there has been a third event this week that has brought those two things, and our bible readings into focus for me.
That has been the snow. Psalm 147 (one of today’s readings) tells us that God “covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.” I could paraphrase that this week as “he makes the snow fall and turns our fields white”.
Now I know that snow can be a danger and a nuisance to a lot of people, but something about it makes my heart sing – maybe it’s the lightness and brightness in the middle of grey days. And it had a wonderful effect this week because, people came out to play. Parents pulled small children around the town on plastic sledges; children built snowmen – I saw one boy dive headfirst into a snowman and come up laughing; teenagers shrieked and threw snowballs at each other. The unexpected day off work seemed to signal a chance for lots of people to relax, spend time with their families in play, and experience a bit of re-creation for themselves. Now I know it’s not a universal panacea, but it has made a difference to some people and I’ve been travelling around with a smile on my face as I’ve watched it.
This week’s snow has underlined to me how much of the healing that humanity needs is of the brokenness in our hearts and minds, the over-work and stress, anxiety and despair. We can bring all those to Jesus, who protects the vulnerable, heals the wounded and broken, and re-creates us as we focus on God. When we focus in on ourselves we are not just selfish; we are like a turkey aiming to fly. We can wear ourselves out with flapping, but using our own strength alone we probably won’t get very far from the ground.
Isaiah 40: 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, hey will walk and not be faint.
When we turn to God, we are no longer alone; we allow ourselves to be refreshed and supported, we can then soar like the eagle of Isaiah 40, resting on the Holy Spirit. Our strength is in the Lord, our healing comes from God, our lives are transformed by our faith in Jesus, and our response is to want, to choose to serve others.
Sermon: Palm Sunday 2009
This was preached at Bourne End Church on 5th April 2009
Readings:
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-24
Mark 11:1-11
THE DONKEY - G.K. Chesterton
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will; S
tarve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
That’s one view of Palm Sunday – of the donkey.
Let us imagine some other experiences of that day. Let us suspend our ideas of who we are today, and put ourselves back in Jerusalem at the time of the Gospel reading.
It is hot and the streets smell of food, sweat, animals; lots of strangers have come into the city, to perform their ritual cleansing at the temple before Passover.
There have been two parades today.
Pilate, accompanied by his troops marched into Jerusalem in a show of Roman power, as he does immediately before any major Jewish holiday. Our ears have heard the sounds of horse’s hooves, and of chariot wheels grinding on the stones; the rhythmic jangling of swords, we have coughed in the dust raised by marching feet, and we have shuddered at the trumpets and fanfare of the oppressor. We know there will be crucifixions along the main road as there are on every feast day. We have again tasted fear as we witnessed the show of power from this foreign ruler.
How does it feel to be a subject people, yearning for freedom, for the fulfilment of God’s promise. We yearn for the long-promised Messiah. What do we expect of God?
Now imagine that we have seen a man.
He’s been travelling around the area for some time.
We’ve heard that he speaks with wisdom and love, “Blessed are the poor” he said. He cares about people and meets their needs; he has fed us with loaves and fishes, he’s healed people of their diseases, cast out demons. He offers us hope. He hasn’t been in Jerusalem recently – there are rumours that the Jewish authorities want him arrested, and we wondered whether he would come to the temple at all. But… today he is coming into Jerusalem, ready for Passover. People are saying he’s the Messiah, the king, the one who will lead us all in a great and glorious victory over the Romans. Our hope is alight. We rush to see him, to throw cloaks on the ground in front of him; we tear branches from the trees to line his path. We join the joyful cries of ‘Hosanna’, ‘Save us now’, and we quote from the psalms.
What does it feel like, this rising excitement; this rekindled hope. What do we expect of this man?
Now imagine we are with the disciples, we know Jesus closely, and we are trying to understand who he is, and what he is about to do. We heard his words; that “he will be mocked and insulted and spat upon, flogged and killed, and will rise again”. But we haven’t fully understood him, and we really hope he doesn’t mean now.
We know enough to obey him this morning when he asked us to go and fetch the colt. “The Lord needs it” is good enough for us. We have given up so much to follow him already, we don’t want to lose him. So we have put our cloaks on the back of the colt for Jesus to sit on, and we are accompanying him down the hill from the Mount of Olives.
What is it like to walk with Jesus towards Jerusalem; to hear the crowd shouting and cheering; to see the temple in front of us, the sun shining off the pale stones? What do we expect Jesus to do when he arrives?
We turn now to Jesus, the man on the colt, leaving his ministry in the desert and the surrounding countryside, coming out of Ephraim and moving into the city, back into the public eye, towards his meetings with Pilate and Herod; and also with Caiphas, plotting to kill him. He feels the strength and flexibility of his body, fit and healthy, riding the colt, and knows he will soon be in physical and mental pain, broken and dying.
Soon he will wash the feet of his disciples and then watch them desert him in fear. He will teach them the real meaning of love, and of salvation. Jesus knows the hearts and minds of humans, and he hears the flattery and the acclamations. Does Jesus have expectations of grandeur or worldly glory? Does he feel fear? What are his expectations?
Now come back to our own lives. How do we react to this man, this fully human scapegoat of ours, the one who carried our sin on the cross? Do we see him as just a man, or do we see his glory as God? Do we empathise with his pain, or do we shout with joy at his resurrection? Or do we do both?
As we consider the obedience of Jesus, knowing his life was in danger, yet moving forwards to fulfil God’s plan, what do we feel?
El-Shaddai, El-Shaddai,(God Almighty)
Through the years you made it clear,
That the time of Christ was near,
Though the people couldn't see what Messiah ought to be.
Though Your Word contained the plan,
They just could not understand,
Your most awesome work was done,
Through the frailty of Your Son.
Singer: Amy Grant (Michael Card & John Thompson)
Readings:
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-24
Mark 11:1-11
THE DONKEY - G.K. Chesterton
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will; S
tarve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
That’s one view of Palm Sunday – of the donkey.
Let us imagine some other experiences of that day. Let us suspend our ideas of who we are today, and put ourselves back in Jerusalem at the time of the Gospel reading.
It is hot and the streets smell of food, sweat, animals; lots of strangers have come into the city, to perform their ritual cleansing at the temple before Passover.
There have been two parades today.
Pilate, accompanied by his troops marched into Jerusalem in a show of Roman power, as he does immediately before any major Jewish holiday. Our ears have heard the sounds of horse’s hooves, and of chariot wheels grinding on the stones; the rhythmic jangling of swords, we have coughed in the dust raised by marching feet, and we have shuddered at the trumpets and fanfare of the oppressor. We know there will be crucifixions along the main road as there are on every feast day. We have again tasted fear as we witnessed the show of power from this foreign ruler.
How does it feel to be a subject people, yearning for freedom, for the fulfilment of God’s promise. We yearn for the long-promised Messiah. What do we expect of God?
Now imagine that we have seen a man.
He’s been travelling around the area for some time.
We’ve heard that he speaks with wisdom and love, “Blessed are the poor” he said. He cares about people and meets their needs; he has fed us with loaves and fishes, he’s healed people of their diseases, cast out demons. He offers us hope. He hasn’t been in Jerusalem recently – there are rumours that the Jewish authorities want him arrested, and we wondered whether he would come to the temple at all. But… today he is coming into Jerusalem, ready for Passover. People are saying he’s the Messiah, the king, the one who will lead us all in a great and glorious victory over the Romans. Our hope is alight. We rush to see him, to throw cloaks on the ground in front of him; we tear branches from the trees to line his path. We join the joyful cries of ‘Hosanna’, ‘Save us now’, and we quote from the psalms.
What does it feel like, this rising excitement; this rekindled hope. What do we expect of this man?
Now imagine we are with the disciples, we know Jesus closely, and we are trying to understand who he is, and what he is about to do. We heard his words; that “he will be mocked and insulted and spat upon, flogged and killed, and will rise again”. But we haven’t fully understood him, and we really hope he doesn’t mean now.
We know enough to obey him this morning when he asked us to go and fetch the colt. “The Lord needs it” is good enough for us. We have given up so much to follow him already, we don’t want to lose him. So we have put our cloaks on the back of the colt for Jesus to sit on, and we are accompanying him down the hill from the Mount of Olives.
What is it like to walk with Jesus towards Jerusalem; to hear the crowd shouting and cheering; to see the temple in front of us, the sun shining off the pale stones? What do we expect Jesus to do when he arrives?
We turn now to Jesus, the man on the colt, leaving his ministry in the desert and the surrounding countryside, coming out of Ephraim and moving into the city, back into the public eye, towards his meetings with Pilate and Herod; and also with Caiphas, plotting to kill him. He feels the strength and flexibility of his body, fit and healthy, riding the colt, and knows he will soon be in physical and mental pain, broken and dying.
Soon he will wash the feet of his disciples and then watch them desert him in fear. He will teach them the real meaning of love, and of salvation. Jesus knows the hearts and minds of humans, and he hears the flattery and the acclamations. Does Jesus have expectations of grandeur or worldly glory? Does he feel fear? What are his expectations?
Now come back to our own lives. How do we react to this man, this fully human scapegoat of ours, the one who carried our sin on the cross? Do we see him as just a man, or do we see his glory as God? Do we empathise with his pain, or do we shout with joy at his resurrection? Or do we do both?
As we consider the obedience of Jesus, knowing his life was in danger, yet moving forwards to fulfil God’s plan, what do we feel?
El-Shaddai, El-Shaddai,(God Almighty)
Through the years you made it clear,
That the time of Christ was near,
Though the people couldn't see what Messiah ought to be.
Though Your Word contained the plan,
They just could not understand,
Your most awesome work was done,
Through the frailty of Your Son.
Singer: Amy Grant (Michael Card & John Thompson)
Sermon: Maundy Thursday 2009
I've been promising for a while to put the text of my sermons onto my own web-page, but for now (at least until I can get my head and PC to co-operate with ftp) I'll start to post them here, and we can catch up later.
This was preached at Sunnyside Church on Maundy Thursday - 9th April 2009
Texts: Exodus 12:1-4,11-14, 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, John 13:1-17, 31b-35
“Having loved his own who were in the world he now showed them the full extent of his love” John 13:1b
On Maundy Thursday caught as we are between the cries of ‘Hosanna’ and the cries of ‘Crucify Him’, we can have mixed feelings. We know the painful events of Good Friday are coming, and in the back of our mind we console ourselves with the thought of the resurrection after that. That’s the benefit of hindsight.
Tonight we can only read the words, try to imagine what it was like in the upper room, but our understanding is softened by our foreknowledge and anticipation of the good news to come.
This is our chance to look at a turning point in the history of salvation, and of our faith. The change from Passover to Communion, the foot-washing, and at the new commandment to love as Jesus loved us. Jesus shows us the full extent of his love, and all of his actions and words direct us towards one idea; to be the body of Christ as believers, as church, as one.
Let’s look first at
The change from Passover to Communion
Jesus institutes communion in words we will use shortly.
He fulfils and extends Passover; “When I see the blood I will pass over you” from Exodus is reprised as “the new covenant in my blood” in 1 Corinthians.
“When I see the blood I will pass over you” - “the new covenant in my blood”; only this time it isn’t the blood of a lamb, it is the blood of a man. Like the scapegoat of Jewish worship – the ram that was released into the desert which took the sins of the people into the desert to meet with wild beasts and death, Jesus in his baptism took our humanity, then went into the desert, confronting and defeating the demons and beasts, and came back to offer himself as a sin offering for all of us – a once and for all offering.
When Jesus talks about “the new covenant in my blood” he is offering us the chance to join with him.
Because communion is centred on the death of Christ, it demonstrates, not just the cross, but the effects of the cross, which we will celebrate on Sunday – our salvation.
Jesus’ blood becomes the marker of our salvation, the means of each one of us avoiding the penalty for our own sin because Jesus has already paid.
Our communion links us to the cross as, “we proclaim his death until he comes.” In communion, we are united with God and each other, every Christian, everywhere, past and present, the church, one body, one in Christ.
Listen to the words of institution, the broken body, the spilled blood; we are part of that, and we share it with each other as one.
Foot-washing
Is it a demonstration of service? Yes it is, but not just that.
It echoes Mary of Bethany anointing Jesus’ feet with nard. Jesus accepted this act of service from one who loved him as a human.
When Jesus washes his disciples feet his action confirms, just as his baptism in water did, that he has become one with all of humanity. God the son, the second person of the trinity, gave up his divinity to become human. He didn’t choose a high status role, with earthly power and authority; and here he symbolically took the role of the lowest of the low – a slave. He performed the actions of a slave, just as the Philippians passage that we sometimes use as a creed says, “…emptied himself, taking the form of a slave”. for us – how much lower could he get?
His action is prophetic – it is showing us how far God is prepared to stoop to clean us up. Not just our dirty feet, but our dirty hearts and lives; our prejudices and grudges, our arguments and divisions and our slavery to the things of this world.
It shows that none of us is too lowly to be touched by God’s love. It reinforces the message that we serve each other, out of a new model of love demonstrated by Jesus; one that says we are many people but one body, each one of us of equal value to God, and each of us part of one body. That love is the love of God for us, of which our love is but a reflection. If we know anything of love, we know God because God is love.
If we look at Jesus, washing the feet of his disciples, let’s remember that the cross achieved spiritually what his water did physically, and use that model of love for each other, one that replaces our own love of self with self-giving love for others – something that holds us together in our different roles, as one body.
This is love that values all of us. Did Jesus, even as he washed Judas’ feet and shared communion with him, weep for his friend? Did he weep for Peter and the others? Does he weep for you and me? What kind of love is this?
It is the love that Jesus teaches as he gives us
The new commandment
Just as he took the Passover ceremony and used it to institute our Eucharist, so Jesus took the commandment in Leviticus 19:18 to “love your neighbour as yourself” and reframed it. We know that Jesus knew this commandment – he quoted it to the teachers of the law, in Matthew 22:36-39, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? 37 Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Jesus rephrases the commandment; offers us a new commandment, “to love one another as I have loved you” “As I have loved you”.
This love that Jesus modelled for us is not an emotion, it is a decision, and it is about determination and will as much as it is about feelings, “1 John 9, “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that God loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins”
We receive a new understanding of love; from our default position of love of self to the new standard of self-giving love; we are encouraged to imitate the love that God has for us, to love as God has loved us.
Funnily enough we are not being asked even to like each other, but to love each other. We are not being asked to wash each other’s feet, but to learn from the motive behind that – to treat each other as if we were all of equal value before God. We are being asked to love each other, and not just those people with clean feet, but all those who are part of the body of Christ. (Acts of service, generously given are the practical outworking of love. Mahatma Gandhi cleaned the toilets in his ashram as a sign that he wanted to be of service to others. I was going to talk to you about changing nappies, which is something I have been delighted to do this week, but I will spare you the details!)
There is one other side to this that I haven’t mentioned, that we each have to learn for ourselves. Each one of us is valued before God, and that includes each one of us. When we refuse to accept help, to accept the service of others in our own vulnerability then we are exercising a false humility. We are refusing to let Jesus wash our feet. Not for nothing do we sing, “Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you. Pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant too.” God does love every one of us. We are all of equal value. We have different roles, but we are one body in Christ.
One body
Last first, first last, one body. The institution of communion, the service of foot-washing, the new commandment all tell us that each of us, in our different places, serving in our different ways, have an equal place in the love of God, that we all fit together to assemble the body of Christ.
And just like the disciples
We meet at a point of failure
a. The traitor eat with the saviour
b. The traitor and the betrayer have their feet washed by the saviour
c. The watchmen and prayer’s fall asleep
d. The friends back away
e. Jesus loves.
Tonight we remember, in our communion, that we are one body because Jesus loved, and continues to love, to make us one body in him.“Having loved his own who were in the world he now showed them the full extent of his love.” Let us celebrate that tonight.
This was preached at Sunnyside Church on Maundy Thursday - 9th April 2009
Texts: Exodus 12:1-4,11-14, 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, John 13:1-17, 31b-35
“Having loved his own who were in the world he now showed them the full extent of his love” John 13:1b
On Maundy Thursday caught as we are between the cries of ‘Hosanna’ and the cries of ‘Crucify Him’, we can have mixed feelings. We know the painful events of Good Friday are coming, and in the back of our mind we console ourselves with the thought of the resurrection after that. That’s the benefit of hindsight.
Tonight we can only read the words, try to imagine what it was like in the upper room, but our understanding is softened by our foreknowledge and anticipation of the good news to come.
This is our chance to look at a turning point in the history of salvation, and of our faith. The change from Passover to Communion, the foot-washing, and at the new commandment to love as Jesus loved us. Jesus shows us the full extent of his love, and all of his actions and words direct us towards one idea; to be the body of Christ as believers, as church, as one.
Let’s look first at
The change from Passover to Communion
Jesus institutes communion in words we will use shortly.
He fulfils and extends Passover; “When I see the blood I will pass over you” from Exodus is reprised as “the new covenant in my blood” in 1 Corinthians.
“When I see the blood I will pass over you” - “the new covenant in my blood”; only this time it isn’t the blood of a lamb, it is the blood of a man. Like the scapegoat of Jewish worship – the ram that was released into the desert which took the sins of the people into the desert to meet with wild beasts and death, Jesus in his baptism took our humanity, then went into the desert, confronting and defeating the demons and beasts, and came back to offer himself as a sin offering for all of us – a once and for all offering.
When Jesus talks about “the new covenant in my blood” he is offering us the chance to join with him.
Because communion is centred on the death of Christ, it demonstrates, not just the cross, but the effects of the cross, which we will celebrate on Sunday – our salvation.
Jesus’ blood becomes the marker of our salvation, the means of each one of us avoiding the penalty for our own sin because Jesus has already paid.
Our communion links us to the cross as, “we proclaim his death until he comes.” In communion, we are united with God and each other, every Christian, everywhere, past and present, the church, one body, one in Christ.
Listen to the words of institution, the broken body, the spilled blood; we are part of that, and we share it with each other as one.
Foot-washing
Is it a demonstration of service? Yes it is, but not just that.
It echoes Mary of Bethany anointing Jesus’ feet with nard. Jesus accepted this act of service from one who loved him as a human.
When Jesus washes his disciples feet his action confirms, just as his baptism in water did, that he has become one with all of humanity. God the son, the second person of the trinity, gave up his divinity to become human. He didn’t choose a high status role, with earthly power and authority; and here he symbolically took the role of the lowest of the low – a slave. He performed the actions of a slave, just as the Philippians passage that we sometimes use as a creed says, “…emptied himself, taking the form of a slave”. for us – how much lower could he get?
His action is prophetic – it is showing us how far God is prepared to stoop to clean us up. Not just our dirty feet, but our dirty hearts and lives; our prejudices and grudges, our arguments and divisions and our slavery to the things of this world.
It shows that none of us is too lowly to be touched by God’s love. It reinforces the message that we serve each other, out of a new model of love demonstrated by Jesus; one that says we are many people but one body, each one of us of equal value to God, and each of us part of one body. That love is the love of God for us, of which our love is but a reflection. If we know anything of love, we know God because God is love.
If we look at Jesus, washing the feet of his disciples, let’s remember that the cross achieved spiritually what his water did physically, and use that model of love for each other, one that replaces our own love of self with self-giving love for others – something that holds us together in our different roles, as one body.
This is love that values all of us. Did Jesus, even as he washed Judas’ feet and shared communion with him, weep for his friend? Did he weep for Peter and the others? Does he weep for you and me? What kind of love is this?
It is the love that Jesus teaches as he gives us
The new commandment
Just as he took the Passover ceremony and used it to institute our Eucharist, so Jesus took the commandment in Leviticus 19:18 to “love your neighbour as yourself” and reframed it. We know that Jesus knew this commandment – he quoted it to the teachers of the law, in Matthew 22:36-39, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? 37 Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Jesus rephrases the commandment; offers us a new commandment, “to love one another as I have loved you” “As I have loved you”.
This love that Jesus modelled for us is not an emotion, it is a decision, and it is about determination and will as much as it is about feelings, “1 John 9, “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that God loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins”
We receive a new understanding of love; from our default position of love of self to the new standard of self-giving love; we are encouraged to imitate the love that God has for us, to love as God has loved us.
Funnily enough we are not being asked even to like each other, but to love each other. We are not being asked to wash each other’s feet, but to learn from the motive behind that – to treat each other as if we were all of equal value before God. We are being asked to love each other, and not just those people with clean feet, but all those who are part of the body of Christ. (Acts of service, generously given are the practical outworking of love. Mahatma Gandhi cleaned the toilets in his ashram as a sign that he wanted to be of service to others. I was going to talk to you about changing nappies, which is something I have been delighted to do this week, but I will spare you the details!)
There is one other side to this that I haven’t mentioned, that we each have to learn for ourselves. Each one of us is valued before God, and that includes each one of us. When we refuse to accept help, to accept the service of others in our own vulnerability then we are exercising a false humility. We are refusing to let Jesus wash our feet. Not for nothing do we sing, “Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you. Pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant too.” God does love every one of us. We are all of equal value. We have different roles, but we are one body in Christ.
One body
Last first, first last, one body. The institution of communion, the service of foot-washing, the new commandment all tell us that each of us, in our different places, serving in our different ways, have an equal place in the love of God, that we all fit together to assemble the body of Christ.
And just like the disciples
We meet at a point of failure
a. The traitor eat with the saviour
b. The traitor and the betrayer have their feet washed by the saviour
c. The watchmen and prayer’s fall asleep
d. The friends back away
e. Jesus loves.
Tonight we remember, in our communion, that we are one body because Jesus loved, and continues to love, to make us one body in him.“Having loved his own who were in the world he now showed them the full extent of his love.” Let us celebrate that tonight.
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